Star Wars: Episode Seven Return of the Grissom
by junglemag
Summary: Gratuitous smut, just for fun!


**Title** Star Wars Episode 7: Return of the Penis

**Author** junglemag

**Rating** NC-17

**Pairing **G/S

**Author's Notes** This is a gratuitous smut piece, just because it's fun. Thanks to my super BFF (and beta) **chadini**. I place all blame for the title on her :D This was written for the Geekfiction Summer Blockbuster Ficathon. My prompt was "May the force be with you."

* * *

Nick popped the top on his root beer, taking a seat next to Sara in the breakroom.

"You're right in time, Nicky. Sara and I were just discussing our favorite childhood movies." Greg began. "I've always been a fan of the Mad Max series, ya know. Leather, sand, Australian accents. What was your favorite as a kid?"

"Eh, I don't know Greg. I guess I was kind of into cowboy movies when I was little, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance kid. Robert Redford, Paul Newman, doesn't get much better than that. Sara, what about you?" Nick queried.

Sara rolled her eyes. "If I tell you guys, it doesn't leave this room. I'm serious." Both of the guys' ears perked at this statement, practically leaning over the table to get closer to Sara.

"I was...a Star Wars geek. I had a light saber, the cinnamon bun hairdo, not to mention the complete set of action figures," she admitted, blushing slightly.

"Are you serious? A Star Wars addict?" Nick's eyes widened. "I never had you pictured as a total nerd. I had you figured for something like Network or Gandhi. Something any other ultra-mature kid would say."

"Yeah Sara, have you come over to the dark side lately?" said Greg, waggling his eyebrows.

"I swear Greg, Nick, if you breathe a word of this to anyone, I'll make sure neither of you father children."

"So, I assume this means me too?" Grissom interjected, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation."

Sara turned her glare from Nick and Greg to Grissom, obviously intending to threaten his ability to procreate as well, when Catherine burst in, babbling about escalating hormones in teenage girls, effectively cutting the tension in the room.

"If you don't mind, everyone, we do have this little matter of assignments," Grissom quipped. "Nick, Greg, you've got a 419 at the Venetian, Cath, a B&E in Henderson, and Sara, you're with me, body with bugs near Lake Mead."

As they all got up to leave, Nick cleared his throat. "Hey, Sar?"

"What?"

"May the force be with you."

Luckily Sara didn't have much aim as the pen she threw sailed right past his head.

* * *

Sara followed Grissom out, slipping on her sunglasses as they exited the building. She trudged over to the passenger side, opened the door and slid in. Within a seconds, they began their drive to the Lake.

Grissom reached over to fiddle with the radio buttons, scanning over a few before landing on a classical station, playing a Vivaldi concerto. He sighed, and flexed his hands on the steering wheel, tapping them in beat to the music.

"Sweetheart, are you alright?" Sara asked, not certain if she really wanted to know the answer. "You seem a little jumpy."

"No, I'm fine," he replied. "I was just imagining you in that bikini. The one Princess Leia wears when she's chained to Jabba the Hut. You have no idea what that image does to me."

"Is that right?" Sara whispered, leaning over to him. "Well, Mr. Grissom, I might just have to teach you a thing or two about the force when we get home."

Grissom cleared his throat, fidgeting slightly at Sara's breath on his neck. "Honey, you do realize that I have to get out of this vehicle soon, and, um...well, the evidence never lies."

Sara moved back to her side of the tahoe, smoothing out the imaginary wrinkles on her pants. "Okay, let's get it together, but remember Han Solo, you're mine when we get home."

Spotting Brass walking towards the SUV, Sara hopped out, with Grissom following close behind, carrying his kit conspicuously in front of him.

"So nice of you two to join me," Brass remarked, nodding towards the body. "This lovely specimen is Henry Jackson, age 31. David was here, estimated time of death somewhere around 72 hours ago. And as you can probably tell, he's ripe."

"Looks like a gunshot wound to the torso, close range given the scorch marks. Think he knew his attacker?" Sara mused, slipping on a pair of gloves.

"It's possible," Grissom replied, "though it could have been a surprise attack, perhaps it was dark." He reached into his kit for a pair of tweezers, intent on acquiring a maggot for further inspection. As he bent over the body, he started whistling that familiar John Williams tune.

If looks could kill, Gil Grissom would be a dead man. Sara did her best impression of Linda Blair, spinning her head around so fast, Grissom worried that she'd be spewing pea soup next.

"What's up Gil? Got a Darth Vader jones?" Brass chuckled.

"You could say that Jim, something's put me in the mood for Star Wars" Grissom grinned, glancing sideways at Sara who wore a smirk of her own.

"Well, R2D2, C3PO, if you don't mind, I'd like to start photographing the scene."

Brass and Grissom trudged over to the tahoe, Brass reaching for his phone, Grissom grabbing some beef jerky for the maggot. Sara began taking pictures, in her usually methodic fashion, humming a little tune to herself.

After a couple of hours, the scene had been thoroughly searched. Grissom handed Sara an armful of bags to store in the back of the SUV. He climbed in the driver's side, waiting for Sara to board.

Jim Brass appeared at the driver's side window. "Okay, Luke, Leia, I'm going to have a talk with Mr. Jackson's business partner. I'll meet you two back at the Death Star."

Ignoring scowls from both Sara and Gil, Brass turned on his heels, throwing a wave backwards as he went.

It was a quiet drive back to the lab, sexual tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Grissom headed into his office while Sara dropped evidence off in the various labs. After she finished with Hodges, Sara made a beeline for Grissom's office.

"Hey, you ready to go?" Sara asked, leaning against the doorway.

"Just signed the last report, my dear." Grissom remarked. He got up from his desk and grabbed his coat from the back of his chair. As he walked out, he placed his hand against the small of her back, causing her to jump. She couldn't believe how in tune her body was with his touch, even after all this time.

They reached their respective cars, and waved, both intent on the same destination. Sara got home first, parking in the spot closest to the door. She strolled in, Grissom following close behind. She turned to speak when her lips were covered by Grissom's, his tongue pressing to get entrance to her mouth. One hand reached up to cup her face,

while he pushed her against the wall. Sara grabbed his head, running her fingers through his soft curls, moaning into his mouth.

He reached for the button on her pants, fumbling mildly with the zipper, pushing them down her hips. Once she was clad only in panties, he turned her around, pressing his erection into her ass. She gasped when his fingers found access to her mound, rubbing lightly against her clit.

"Mmm, Griss, want you. Please baby, I want to feel you inside me," Sara begged.

"Not so fast honey, I want you to come for me. Come on my fingers," Grissom replied, dipping further into her sex.

He pushed two fingers deeper into her soft curls, simultaneously rubbing her clit with his thumb. He set a rhythm, pumping and flicking, hearing her breath quickening while unconsciously grinding his dick against her ass. He felt her muscles contract, sending a pulsating orgasm through her body. She fell limp against him for a moment, panting slightly. She quickly regained her composure, turning around and grabbing his hard cock with her hand.

She slid her hand up and down his shaft, reaching down to cup his balls with the other. She backed herself against the wall, pulling him with her. She lifted one long leg, wrapping it around Grissom's body, pulling him into her. She guided his dick to her entrance, bracing herself by grabbing onto his shoulder.

"Alright, big boy. Fuck me," She whispered against his ear.

That was all Grissom needed to start pumping into her. He pushed her harder against the

wall, holding her leg up. He nipped lightly at the flesh on her neck, tongue traveling farther up till he reached the base of her ear. His tongue encircled her lobe, sucking gently, until she scratched down his back, fingernails digging into his skin.

He pushed further into her, bumping her into the wall, moans coming from both of them now. She knew he was getting close, his strokes shortening. She raised her pelvis slightly and pushed herself into him, angling the head right on her g-spot. She pulled him in harder, grabbing his ass while he pushed. He bucked wildly then slowed his pace, emptying himself into her.

They leaned against the wall for a moment, both regaining their composure. Grissom pulled back and smiled, "So, about that Princess Leia costume.."

Fin


End file.
